


One Last Dance

by QueenIX



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Gen, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Soulmates, Slow Build, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:08:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24896701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenIX/pseuds/QueenIX
Summary: Odo and Kira have a date night in the holosuite. There will be dancing.
Relationships: Elim Garak & Kira Nerys, Kira Nerys/Odo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	1. Tinker Tailor Soldier Stylist

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fly-on-the-wall follow-along on a date night in the holosuite. We deserved to see more of them dancing together.

“Ah, Colonel Kira, good morning. Welcome to my shop.”

"Good morning, Garak." 

Garak ushered Kira into his tailor’s shop. Kira was a bit nervous. Her appointment today needed to go well. A lot was riding on it---namely, Odo's happiness. 

“Colonel, won’t you sit down?”

Kira jumped a little. Garak was right behind her. “Oh, yes. Thank you.”

Kira settled into the seat Garak indicated, a cushioned chair placed at a small table set against the central back wall of his shop. The table looked like it was set up for consultations--one chair on one side and two on the other, one of which Kira now occupied. Garak took the single seat opposite for himself. With a half-smile of acknowledgment, he turned on his datapad and began their consultation. 

“Shall we begin?”

“Uh, yes, I’m ready.”

“First, please do remind me of the occasion.”

“Odo is taking me to the holosuites for a big night out, but I don’t know why. He says he wants to celebrate the date, but he won’t tell me what we're celebrating.”

“That is rather cryptic,” Garak replied. 

“Yeah, well, it’s also rather Odo. He is an enigma sometimes, even to me. Odo won't tell me why he wants to go out, but he has told me where. He picked an Earth simulation from their late 19th century.”

“And the purpose of this outing?”

“We’re going dancing. We'll be in a formal ballroom. He wants to try something called the Viennese waltz.”

“Ah,” Garak said. “The waltz. One of Earth’s more civilized products.”

“You’ve heard of it?”

“More than that, Colonel. I’ve danced it. Doctor Bashir was invited to a formal wedding ceremony last year and needed a partner so he could brush up his dance skills. I happened to be available.”

“Yeah? How’d that go?”

Garak rolled his eyes and huffed. “Doctor Bashir wanted the lead. I'm sure you can imagine the rest.”

Kira laughed. “So not good, then. I won’t have that problem with Odo, though. If the man does anything well, it’s lead.”

“Indeed,” Garak agreed.

“Odo sent me a lesson program weeks ago,” Kira said. “I’ve been learning from the computer. He wants me to keep my dancing a surprise, though. My dress, too. He doesn’t want to see any of it before we meet in the holosuite."

“I see,” Garak said. “And the dress, I assume, is where you encountered difficulty?”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Kira replied. “I tried to figure it out on my own, but I have no idea what to wear. Can you help me?”

“Of course, Colonel,” Garak replied. “It is my trade, after all. First, though, can you explain your difficulties? The computer should be more than capable of supplying you with a costume, and you’ve worn period costumes before. Why are you unable to select a costume for this era?”

“Have you ever researched Earth historical costumes, Garak?”

“Yes,” Garak replied. “Fashion history is a hobby of mine, and since we do spend so much time with the people of Earth, naturally, theirs did become a point of curiosity.”

“I’m more confused than curious,” Kira said. “The female fashions of this era are ridiculous, and if I’m following the stuffy set of rules that go with this waltz Odo wants to do, I can’t compromise and wear male garments. And it is Odo we’re talking about, so I’m trying to stick to the rules for his comfort, but I have to tell you, after doing my own research, I almost canceled the whole night.”

“Oh, well, we certainly don’t want that. Tell me what bothers you so much about the costume.”

And so, Kira finally began what she came for. She fully expressed her frustrations about 19th century Earth costume to her tailor. The boning! (Yes, they wore actual bones, the savages.) The beads! The laces! A WOODEN CAGE under the skirt? _Why?_ Were Earth men afraid their women would fly off and leave them if they weren’t trussed up like game birds? These fashions had to be some kind of socially mandated torture! And don't even get her started about the shoes. Who puts so many buttons on a shoe?

“I do see your dilemma,” Garak said. “However, if you are not so concerned about remaining true to the time period, but still wish to follow the rules of dress for the ballroom, might I suggest we simply opt for a more modern approach?”

Garak picked up his datapad and searched through its menus. When the pad was ready, he showed it to Kira. On it were dress selections from a time much later in Earth’s history--styles, in fact, that were still worn on Earth in the 24th century---and Kira had been as relieved as she was delighted. The updated ball gowns were lovely, and she had to admit, they were appealingly feminine. Even so, it was difficult to choose. The dress patterns were numerous.

Kira spent a fair amount of time browsing through Garak’s catalog and chatting with him over dress patterns. Eventually, she landed on something she could picture herself in. The gown Kira selected looked easy to wear and to dance in, and required only cruelty-free undergarments. The gown had a simple fitted bodice that had a high neckline but was sleeveless, so it would stay up through the night but still show some skin. The simple bodice was made special by intricate, shimmering beading that covered it front and back. The gown’s skirt fell away from the natural waist in multiple, artfully cut tiers that mimicked the old caged style without actually needing a cage to shape it. Rather, layers of a gauzy fabric sewn to an underskirt at strategic angles created the bell shape. The skirt was built with enough generosity that it would still whirl and twirl when she danced, but not so much that it would generate its own weather pattern. 

More importantly, however, Kira could see herself in this dress, could see herself feeling special while wearing it and having a good time in spite of it. Something about the fluffy, light skirt and the shimmering, modern bodice felt inexplicably right to her. She showed Garak her choice. He agreed. 

“This pattern is a more whimsical choice than I expected you to make, but the bodice is perfect for your frame, and it does suit your needs. You will blend well enough with the holo-characters and still be able to breathe." He looked up at her. "Shall we proceed? Are you saying yes to this dress pattern?”

“Yes,” Kira said. “This is the one.”

“Wonderful,” Garak replied. “Now, Colonel, what are your color and fabric preferences?”

Garak tapped the pad and showed Kira the literally hundreds of fabric and color combinations the gown could be made in, and Kira was flummoxed all over again. How should she choose? What would fit the venue? What would Odo want to see her in, and what did she want to see herself in? This night was special, and she wanted to look special, but this whole dress-up thing was not her deal. Troop movements, battle strategies, the death of her enemies, these were the types of things Kira was good at planning. Making life-or-death decisions on behalf of other people was so much simpler than picking out a ball gown.

Garak sensed her distress and made a suggestion. “Colonel, if you cannot choose one color, then why not have them all?”

Garak got up from the table. He stepped to his replicator and tapped in an order. A fabric swatch appeared on the tray. Garak retrieved it. He returned to the table and displayed the fabric to Kira. 

The color of the fabric Garak chose was a gentle, whispery, silver-white, the same color found on the edge of a cumulus cloud just after a good rain. The texture was silky, airy, and sheer. It was a bit of mist resting in Garak’s palm. A lovely choice, but not really Kira’s style. She tended to gravitate to heavier, earthier choices, and honestly, even to Kira, white seemed a dull color choice. Kira felt her doubts return. If even Garak couldn’t figure it out, then what? But just as her doubt started to nibble at the edges of her confidence, Garak tilted his hand, and everything changed. 

The fabric in Garak’s palm shimmered and shone and _shifted_ , from that gentle, silvery white to mild blue to cerulean, and it kept changing, moving through all of the blues of the color spectrum all the way to the deepest midnight. Garak tilted his hand the other direction and the fabric did its magic again, only it shifted from palest pink to garden rose to coral to a sunset blood orange. Garak tilted his hand again, and yet again, showing Kira more and more shifts and ranges of hue. If it was a color the eye could see, it was caught in the little square of fabric in Garak’s hand. 

Kira cast a doubtful gaze at Garak. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Ordinarily, I might, but the venue calls for something a bit extraordinary.”

“And you think I can pull this off?”

“Colonel, I do. You will show well in this, I’m sure.”

Kira still wasn’t convinced. She reached out and brushed the fabric with the tip of a hesitant finger. “Wow, it’s so delicate.”

“Andorian snow organza,” he replied. “Quite rare in non-replicated form, and one of the few special-occasion fabrics the culture produces.”

“Do you think Odo will like it?”

Garak rolled his eyes. “Well, we must consider what the station’s premier fashion expert would think, so let us be sure.” 

Garak pinched the fabric swatch between the first two fingers of his hand and flourished it like a tiny handkerchief. He raised his hand until it was next to Kira’s face, very close, but not to touch her. Rather, he let the fabric drape her cheek. His scaled gaze was intent as he shifted between Kira’s cheek and the fabric, her cheek and the fabric. Kira started feeling squirmy under Garak’s sharp scrutiny when he finally spoke. 

“I am quite sure that this fabric for that dress pattern is the correct choice. My expertise is, after all, why the colonel came to my shop. However, she will choose as she pleases, of course.” 

Kira turned her head so she could meet Garak’s gaze. She expected his usual supercilious glare. Instead, his blue gaze was mild, and a slight smile had turned up the corners of his mouth.

“Kira, I like this choice for you, but in the end, it truly doesn’t matter. You will look lovely in whatever you choose, and regardless of what I recommend. If that isn’t enough of an endorsement, I don’t know what Odo could possibly say that would be.” 

Kira blushed hotly. The burn of it flared all the way through her hairline and out to the tips of her ears. Praise from Garak was far more uncomfortable to process than his usual acerbic criticism. Now she knew how Doctor Bashir felt, and it explained a lot. Garak’s praise, just like his criticism, was woven with threads of truth and was equally as difficult to refute. Kira took her tailor’s recommendations and ordered her ball gown to be made in the Andorian organza. 

“And for the beading on the bodice?” Garak asked. “Do you have a preference for a certain type of stone?”

 _Seriously?_ “I trust your judgment, Garak.”

“Of course,” Garak replied. “Then we will select…Sioratian moon crystals. Lightweight, and quite stunning. They will mirror the iridescence of the fabric without being gauche. They should complement the luster of the organza perfectly.”

“Sounds good to me,” Kira replied.

“Do you want slippers or heels to match?”

Good question. “Uh, slippers, I think. I'm new to this dance, and I have no idea how long Odo will keep me on my feet.”

“A sensible choice." He raised a brow at her. "However, if you are leaving it up to the constable, I’m sure he’ll have you off of your feet as soon as good manners allow.” 

Kira blushed again but it was with good humor this time. Now Garak was tossing innuendos at her, too? He must be in a good mood.

“Do you require an evening bag?”

“No,” Kira replied. “We’re only going to a holosuite.” 

“Shoulder wrap?”

“Umm...Yes, I’d better.”

“And what would you like for jewelry?”

“You can pick that out, too, Garak. Nothing too close to my neck, please.”

Garak gave her another scrutinizing, blue-eyed once-over. “You won’t need much, especially not with the bodice. Maybe just some small earrings and a bracelet, and perhaps an ornament for your hair. Do you not have anything of your own?” 

“Nothing that will match the dress.”

“Will you be wearing your clan earring?”

“I don’t have to.”

“Then we shall request a pair of Earth diamond studs and a matching tennis bracelet. Not too showy, goes with anything, and actually, rather cost-effective. I can get you genuine stones for a song--literally. The Earth jeweler down the Promenade practically gives his diamonds away.”

“Yeah, well, he is from Earth. It’s what they do.”

“Indeed,” Garak said. He made a few more taps on the pad. “For the last touch, we shall order gloves in white satin as gloves are required for the ballroom." He looked up at her and smiled. "And now, Colonel, your look is complete. May I show you?”

Kira nodded eagerly. Garak turned the pad around for Kira to see. The dress Kira had picked out was there, in the misty organza, with the crystal-beaded bodice. The dress was modeled by a computerized manikin. Garak had given the manikin a chin-length brunette hairstyle just like Kira’s. Her hair was swept up on one side and held in place by a jeweled barrette. Her pale shoulders were wrapped in a sheer, shimmery single layer of the Andorian organza. Diamonds winked on either side of the manikin’s head and on her gloved wrist, and the tips of silver-gray slippers peeped from beneath the fluffy layers of her gown.

“Oh, Garak, it’s beautiful! I love it!” 

“The styling did turn out rather well, even if I do say so myself. May I complete the order?”

Kira gave her go-ahead, with her gratitude. Garak had done his job well, and Kira was glad she sought his help. When she came into his shop, she was full of dread and confusion. Now, she was full of excitement. She actually couldn’t wait to get dressed up and go dancing.

“Garak,” she said, “whatever else you are--or were--you really are good at this. Thank you for your help. You saved me.”

He bowed his head. “Colonel, please. It was my pleasure. I rarely get booked for a formal occasion appointment these days, and I do enjoy them. It truly was a delight to serve you today.”

Kira’s smile turned wry. She actually believed he meant that. “Can you imagine the us of five or six years ago doing something like this? Picking out shoes, gossiping, talking about diamonds?”

“Not at all.”

“Me, either. Not even a little bit.”

“Well, time does change us all, sometimes for the worse, but sometimes, for the much, much better.” 

Kira’s smile broadened. “It makes me think there might be hope for us all yet, Garak.”

“One can only hope.”

Kira gave Garak her thanks one more time. Garak returned it, with the assurance that her order would be complete within a few days. He would contact her when it was time for a fitting.

A smiling Kira left Garak’s shop with a tune in three-four time waltzing happily through her head.


	2. 1-2-3-and

Kira’s first thought as she entered the ballroom was that Garak was wrong. She felt completely out of place. Eyes followed her through the entrance and into the reception area, although none of them seemed to mind that she was there and that she was dressed so oddly. She smoothed a hand over her nervous stomach, only to be reminded by the catch of rough stones on her gloved palm that she shouldn’t do things like that in this dress. It probably wasn’t ladylike or something. She dropped her hand and took a fortifying breath. She needed to keep her head up, like she owned the place. Then maybe she would start to feel like she did. 

Someone offered to take her wrap and Kira allowed it. Stares continued to follow her into the main ballroom. She returned the glances she caught and was met with polite nods. No one but her seemed to be uncomfortable or seemed to notice that her attire was completely different than every other female in the room. She knew she looked pretty--she’d done a thorough once-over of herself in the mirror before she left her quarters--but now that she had made it to the ballroom, she also knew that she looked all wrong. The design of her dress, the style, the fabric, her hair, all made her stand out in the crowd like an anachronous wart. 

The people en masse did look wonderful in their costumes, she had to admit. She had judged too soon. She felt a little less censorious of the Earth women’s attire now that she saw them in full scale and in the right environment. The grandness of the ballroom with its gilt heights and fine art required fuss and pomp and sculptured undergarments. Kira got that now. 

Kira was surprised Odo wasn't near the door to greet her. He'd left their quarters ahead of her, before she'd even finished her shift, and said he wanted to be away so she could get ready. He had gone on to the holosuite ahead of her, but he wasn't anywhere close by. She would have to start searching for him. She stepped a little further into the ballroom and began to take it all in as she began her hunt for Odo.

High above Kira’s head was a chandelier the size of a shuttlecraft. Grand swoops of glittering stones gathered around a central sculpted core of cast golden metal, which was adorned with even more glittering stones. The effect was nothing short of magnificence. And it was lit by wax candles, which to Kira’s eye, made the grand old thing seem almost quaint. However, the low, warm glow of candlelight also made the venue feel romantic.

The walls were all paneled in wood, but in some places, the paneling became a frame for a large-scale painting. Scenes of what looked like country life had been captured in oversized detail. A pale outdoor green dominated the color scheme of most of the pictures, and figures in brightly colored clothes danced, dined, drank, and played. Under one tree was a couple in a romantic tryst, under another, a pair of servants gossiping, and near another, children playing a game with a small brown mammal. Kira followed the paintings from the start at one wall and then all the way around the room to the opposite side, and a plain-sight secret was revealed. The separate panels were actually one big mural that told a story of a family enjoying the outdoors. 

Intricate woodwork also adorned the room, from floor to ceiling. Fluting, edging, framing and planking were all done in hand-carved, richly red wood and all seemingly all to a theme. Kira wasn’t sure what that theme was, but it was still attractive. Large columns at the outer edges of the room were each adorned with a carving of a rather athletic man, at least three times larger than life, each man barefooted and half-dressed with much of his flesh exposed. A leaf wreath circled each masculine brow and some sort of fruit-bearing vine twined around each soldier-like body.

Kira thought these wooden giants were actually pretty hot, but she questioned why someone would carve their ballroom up with sex symbols. Here and there, an impish looking little baby creature puffed its face out from between the leaves, a silly contrast to all that sculpted muscle. Each athlete had a different aspect and a different garment or pose, but they all had the same monumental task--hold their muscled arms up over their heads and hold up the ballroom’s gilt ceiling in wooden perpetuity. 

Kira left off checking out the wooden studs. She was supposed to be looking for Odo. 

Kira kept walking deeper into the room. She came to a large, circular space of cleared floor. Kira realized it was the dance floor, or would be, once the music started. All of the genteel guests gave the circle a wide berth and skirted around the edges to move between conversation groups as they waited for the dancing to start. Most guests were standing, but at the edges of the room, some were seated, mainly, the oldest and the youngest guests. Many guests had a drink in their hands as they casually chatted and laughed and scowled and gestured along with their neighbors. The noise level was high.

To Kira, it looked like the usual party crowd of humanoids. Really, some things never changed, even between space and time. Kira scanned each face carefully, looking for her lover, expecting him to stand out from the Humans, but she couldn’t find him.

She huffed. She would have to go even deeper into the room, which would force her to cut through the thick crowd gathered around the dance floor. She began to do so, as elegantly and as politely as she could. She found herself giving and receiving many excuse mes, and pardon mes, and oh-so-sorrys as she made her way from one end of the circle to the other. Finally, after many unintentional encounters with pointed elbows and rounded rumps, Kira made her way to the back of the ballroom. 

Like a scene out of a storybook, the last of the crowd parted for Kira and let her through with knowing smiles. And there, at the end of the line of smiling strangers, leaning casually at the foot of one of the carved soldier-gods and looking like the hero of said storybook, was Odo. 

He looked perfect, of course. He had donned the same elegant black suit of formal clothes as the other men in the room--Kira assumed it was still called a tuxedo during this time period--but to her, it looked far more special when he wore it. Far more elegant. Perhaps because Kira knew that the tuxedo was actually him, was a sleek and well-crafted shell that protected his true form. Or perhaps he looked so good to her simply because she loved him.

Kira smiled at him, but Odo didn’t really smile back, not in the way other people thought of it. There was a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth that made him seem a bit friendlier, but for Odo, that was the same as a full grin. Rather, the gauge of what Odo was feeling was much easier to read in his eyes. Kira took in the shining blue warmth of his gaze as he looked at her, noticed how he couldn’t seem to stop looking at her, and how the temperature of his gaze was swiftly raising hers, heating her from her inner core and outward until the skin on her cheeks and neck blushed with budding desire. 

Odo kept his place by the column and kept that smoldering blue gaze on hers. He let her walk to him. She realized he likely hid at the back of the room on purpose to make her chase him down, which was good. It meant he was in a good mood, and in the mood to play. 

When Kira was close enough, Odo straightened and took a couple of steps toward her. He drew his posture straight, bowed briefly, and extended a white-gloved hand. Kira set her hand lightly in his and watched with delight as he bent over it, as he raised her satin-draped fingers to his lips. 

“Colonel Kira,” he began, “good evening.”

“Good evening, Security Chief Odo,” Kira replied. She did her best to stay in character. She was starting to like this game. 

“May I say, Colonel, that you look quite beautiful this evening.” His gaze swept her up and down and came back to her face. “Quite beautiful.”

“So do you,” she returned. And he did. If it were up to Kira, he’d wear a tuxedo every day, even to the security office. 

He bowed his head. “I will take the compliment to heart since it was gifted by someone who is clearly an expert.” He stepped a little closer to her and that blue warmth in his gaze intensified. A white-gloved hand tipped her chin. “You are easily the most beautiful woman here.”

Kira laughed at that. “I am the only woman here,” she replied. “We’re in a holosuite, remember?”

“I do remember. But you only prove my point.”

“How so, sir?”

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Look around you. Even the computer with all of its sophistication, with all of its databases, with files upon files of humanoid fantasies to draw upon couldn’t conceive a being more beautiful than Kira Nerys. You are most definitely the belle of this ball.”

Kira bit her cheek against another laugh. He was laying it on a bit thick, but--“Flattery will get you everywhere, sir.”

“Will it?” he said. “Then shall I give you more?” 

He stepped even closer, close enough, in fact, that he could lean over and whisper in her ear. His voice was a soft growl. “My dear, you look absolutely _ravishing_ tonight.”

Why in the world did that growl always give her such a thrill? A shiver went down her body and settled warmly in her lower regions. It was as if he had actually swept his hand down her bare back.

She was a little breathless as she replied. “You like the dress, then?”

“Mmm,” he growled. He lightly ran a white-gloved finger under one gauzy edge of her skirt. “I do like it,” he said softly. His gaze came back to hers. “I like it very, very much.”

The longer he looked at her with that blue-eyed smolder, the more words she lost. She swallowed audibly. “I’ll uh...I’ll let Garak know.”

So much for ballroom etiquette. Apparently, Odo and Kira weren’t capable of following it. As usual, their bodies had drawn close without them being conscious it was happening. Odo was way too close now to call it polite, close enough for his black-clad legs to push into the full sweep of her skirt. And Kira, contrary to etiquette, planned to do absolutely nothing about it. She liked him close, had been thinking about being this close to him all day. 

His hand moved to her waist. He slowly traced along the textured stones of her bodice, from one side all the way to the other, each little stone getting its moment under the slide of his thumb. He smiled and looked up her again. Holding her gaze, hand still on her hip, he began to circle around her, forcing her to turn with him if she still wanted to see his face. He stopped turning and stepped forward. The tips of his shiny shoes met the toes of her slippers and she drew them away, slid her feet back. Without breaking eye contact, Odo kept stepping forward and Kira kept sliding back until she couldn’t go back any further. She hit the wall with a mild _umph_. Kira realized Odo had backed her into the corner he had just vacated.

Kira couldn’t help but smile. _Nicely managed, Constable..._

As they continued to gaze warmly at one another, Odo's hand stayed on her hip. The other hand rested on the wall behind her head. He drew even closer to her, close enough to kiss her now, but he didn’t, and she really, really wanted him to. The tastefully beaded bodice of Kira’s gown grew constrictive as her breathing grew fast, shallow. She had to look away from him. She bit her lip in anticipation and raised her eyes again, only she came back stronger. She added a bit of a challenge to her expression. She was in his arms, backed into a corner, where he wanted her. So now what? 

Odo’s mouth lifted in a one-sided grin. He finally looked away from her face to look down at the skirt of her dress. His white-gloved hand traveled over her hip and then slid slyly down her thigh. He met the edge of the first light, airy tier of fabric and deftly disappeared the white glove beneath it. The thin underskirt of her gown was the only barrier between her bare skin and his touch. He raised his gaze to Kira’s again and lifted an inquiring brow. Should he stop?

The warmth that seeped through her gown from his hand was tantalizing, and the brush of his breath over her neck felt sinfully good, so no, he shouldn’t stop. Odo continued his quest, gently parting the delicate layers of organza as he traced his way across her thigh. Kira shivered a bit and clutched his arm, rested her head back against the wall. He slid his hand even higher, closer, manipulating the slippery fabric of her underskirt, heading for the juncture of her thighs. He grunted softly when he finally found what he wanted. He pushed his knuckle between the damp little cleft. Her body ignited and she turned her head to the side, trying to find air. Prophets, he hadn’t even kissed her yet, and already she was soaking---

_“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. May I have your attention, please.”_

Kira pushed away from Odo and bolted out from the corner. Prophets, she had totally forgotten herself with him--again! They’d gone way too far. She looked around frantically, the burn of her desire turning into the shame of embarrassment, her heart hammering in anticipation of censure, but none of the other guests in the room seemed to notice anything unusual at all. They all began to turn their backs to her and Odo as their attention was drawn to the central part of the ballroom. 

“Nerys, relax,” Odo said, catching her by the waist again. He was right behind her. “We’re in a holosuite, remember? Technically, no one is watching. Besides, I programmed them all not to.”

“Yeah, well, even so,” she said as she angrily smoothed her skirt. “It doesn’t feel like it with all these eyes around. It messes with my head.” She stopped fussing with her dress and scowled up at Odo. She slugged his arm. “You are reprehensible, by the way.”

“Maybe,” he smirked. “Or maybe I just missed you. At least we're not on the promenade.”

“True,” she conceded. She still felt a little huffy. She crossed her arms over her chest and let herself pout a bit. Odo rested his arm over her shoulders and soothingly stroked her upper arm. The gentle stroke of his thumb on the bare skin above her glove softened her stance. 

“I guess I can’t put all the blame on you, anyway,” she continued. “It’s not like I wasn’t enjoying myself.”

After a brief pause, he spoke again. “Do you actually think I’d go that far with real people watching? Do you really think I could be that much of a libertine?”

“At this point, I wouldn’t put anything past you.”

He paused again. “Hmph,” he said. “Maybe you shouldn’t. You don’t want to know where my mind went when we were in Ops yesterday. It was rather shocking.”

She looked up at him and grinned. “Honestly? Me, too.”

He chuckled at that and kissed her hair.

“You know, Odo, you still haven’t told me what all this fuss is about. You still haven’t told me what we’re celebrating tonight.”

“Later,” he said. He tilted his chin toward the dance floor. “They’re about to start.” 

That was a deflection, and Kira knew it, but she turned her attention to the dance floor anyway. Odo could keep his secrets. For now. 

The speaker--their host, Odo told her-- was a short, stout little man with almost no hair on his head and a mustache two times too big for his face. It threw out widely from beneath his nose in waxed and curled resplendence. Like all of the men of the room, he wore a tuxedo. He also wore some sort of lens over one eye that was attached to a thin chain that disappeared under his collar. Kira thought he was completely adorable. 

The speaker was standing on a box-like platform which raised him above the crowd. While Kira and Odo had been distracting one another, a group of musicians had moved into the room and were now seated behind the host on the platform. They were also in formal dress, and for some reason, all men. Kira remembered women were generally not permitted to hold jobs during this time in Earth’s history, at least not good ones. 

Kira spared a moment to wonder at that. What was up with Earth’s obsession with gender, anyway? How had they ever made it into space? They’d wasted whole centuries by hobbling half the intelligence bank of their own population. Sometimes it really blew her mind that these were the same people who founded the Federation.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” the speaker continued. “We are most happy to welcome you to tonight’s ball. We are pleased to have such a distinguished crowd gathered for this joyous occasion. I will not keep you long--I know well why you came--so we will proceed very soon with the dancing! But first, our guests of honor. We are here, of course, to honor two very special people who are honoring a very special day.”

Kira searched the room, looking for these two special people the host was speaking of. However, the host was looking in her direction. The rest of the room followed suit, and soon, the entire crowd was looking expectantly at her and Odo.

“Please,” the speaker continued, “as our honored guests, won’t you lead us in the first dance of the evening?”

Odo stepped out from behind her. His expression said he had known this was coming. And he should. He picked the program. He offered Kira his hand.

Kira hesitated to take it. She was suddenly nervous. She still hadn’t danced this dance with anyone but herself. She was still having the same processing issue as before--fake people still presented as people to her mind, and she worried about making an idiot of herself. But even more important to her was Odo. This was his carefully planned night. What if she hadn't practiced well enough and disappointed him?

Odo caught on to the uncertainty of her thoughts. “Come, Nerys,” he said softly. “Dance with me.”

There was such tenderness in his voice, how could she refuse him? She gave Odo her hand. He gently led her to the dance floor. The holographic crowd watched them pass with the same benign smiles and nods they’d had all evening. Kira reflexively smiled back. 

They soon reached the dance floor. As soon as Kira's slippered foot touched the polished wood, the opening steps of the dance started running through her mind and her nervous thoughts became background noise. Just like when she was heading into battle, the anticipation beforehand was far worse for Kira than the actual event, and as soon as the action began, she remembered her training. She let her muscle memory take over and trusted her body to know what to do.

Odo led her to the center of the circle. The room had gone silent. Odo and Kira gave one another the formal salutations---a bow and a curtsey. They waited for a few more beats, and then, the first slow notes of the music began.

Kira concentrated on her partner. He bowed again. She curtseyed again, this time with her skirt drawn up on one side. He offered his hand. She took it. With his posture held military-straight, he began to lead her around the edges of the circle. Kira remembered that in times past, this step was meant to allow the male to present the female to the room and also to let everyone admire the female’s beauty as well as her costume. Again, gendered and antiquated, but Kira found herself enjoying it all the same. The pride in Odo’s stance and in his expression as he walked next to her was contagious. 

Once their promenade was done, they glided gracefully back to the center of the circle again. Kira remembered where she was supposed to stand (directly across from Odo) and how she was supposed to pose (smile!). They were ready. They waited for a few more beats, and then, the real music began.

Kira and Odo stepped closer to one another and immediately locked into the waltz position. It looked very much as if they'd just met in a passionate embrace. His left arm was held high and was a resting place for her right hand. His right hand was set stiffly just below her left shoulder. Her right arm rested over his left, with her hand set on top of his right shoulder. This made a frame for her upper body and provided balance for the dancing to come. She arched her upper back away from her partner with her head tilted to the crowd so they could see her face ( _Arms up, Nerys, and smile!_ ). Kira was beyond pleased with herself for remembering it all and for not poking Odo in the eye.

As soon as the correct downbeat landed, they were off. Odo’s left foot moved and Kira immediately responded with her right. Left-right, right-left, their exchange immediately became a synchronized, mirrored series of movements that allowed them to move in a graceful circle around the floor. Once they took the first few steps, Kira found the rest was easy, so long as she kept counting. The dance was still not without its challenges, though. The footwork of the waltz was simple enough, and Kira had memorized it well, but it was harder than it looked in execution.

Kira discovered that the waltz was deceptively seductive now that she had a partner. It looked formal and stuffy, and there were all those rules, but as she danced, Kira learned why they were there. The grace of the waltz lied not in fanciful footwork or showy moves, but in the perfection of its dynamics, in the illusion of unity generated by two well-matched partners. Even though one partner was in the lead and in control, it was the following partner that balanced the dance itself, who maintained the critical pivot between two bodies and kept them joined. The better two waltz partners were synced with one another, the better they communicated, and the more exciting and complex the dance became. Kira found it all an effective metaphor for another partnered activity she very much enjoyed.

Finding trust and balance with her current dance partner was as easy for Kira as breathing. After all, this wasn’t their first dance together. That let Kira concentrate on her footwork. Kira did her best to keep it all straight without tripping them both. Odo, of course, missed not one step as he glided her around the circle and whirled her past the blurred faces of the crowd. His sense of timing was impeccable. The longer he turned her around the dance floor, the more comfortable Kira became, and the better their rhythms synced, the smoother their dancing became. Before long, Kira stopped counting steps and simply started enjoying herself. 

After the requisite time passed for the couple of honor to kick things off, other couples joined Odo and Kira on the dance floor. Pastel-skirted women poured into the space like tumbled blossoms and their black-clad partners followed suit. The more crowded the dance floor became, the more intimate the couple’s dynamic grew. There was, ironically, more privacy with more people. They also started to run out of dance space, so the pace of their dancing became moderated enough to allow for conversation.

“Are you having fun?” Odo asked. 

“I am,” Kira smiled. “You?”

“Oh, yes.” He smiled as he swooped her left to avoid another couple. "You dance so beautifully, Nerys. Thank you for learning this with me."

"You're welcome," she said. “This program is impressive, Odo. Did you make this program or did Quark have it already?”

“Both and neither. I modified an existing program by writing in some touches of my own.”

“Like what? What’s yours?”

“You’ll see.”

“Not gonna tell me?”

“It’s a surprise.”

And that’s all he’d say on the subject. Kira continued to let him keep his secrets. She found she actually wanted to be surprised. Besides, she was too busy dancing in the present to worry about the future. Odo had done such an excellent job with his romantic choice of venue and the way he’d danced tonight that his surprise could bomb completely and she would still call the night a success. 

But then again, Kira reminded herself, it was Odo who had made this plan. When had anything he ever planned himself gone wrong? 

The musicians played through two more waltzes after the first, with Kira and Odo staying on for both of them. When they got waltz number four, it was announced as a fast waltz, only for the brave of heart and light of foot. Odo and Kira were up for the challenge. That balance and unity that the waltz required was put to the test in the pace set by the double-time of the music. She and Odo whirled around the dance floor so fast, Kira could actually feel the pull of gravity in her core, the critical force their dance generated that was keeping their bodies connected and keeping them from spinning off into other couples. They were like revolving planets in constant danger of cosmic collision. It was thrilling, and Kira laughed out loud, another ballroom faux pas, but she was far past the point of caring about any of that. 

Finally, the music wound down, and Kira did, too. Kira’s body was ready for a break. She was breathless and sweaty and her feet hurt. She was glad she had chosen slippers over heels as the soft soles slid over the wooden floor with ease, but the slippers didn’t provide any support otherwise. She asked Odo to lead her off the floor and to a quiet place to cool down. 

He swept a short bow and offered his arm. “This way, Colonel.”


	3. Thirst

Odo deftly led Kira through the crowd around the dance floor and darted diagonally off the circle to one side. They stopped at a table that had refreshments--champagne, ale, and something called punch. Kira really just wanted water, though. A man serving behind the table poured some water for her into a pretty crystal glass with a stem. He handed it to her. She immediately downed the whole glass--she was parched!-- and handed it back for a refill. The servant didn’t miss a step as he repeated the pouring process and handed the glass back to Kira. She thanked him and took the glass with her.

Soon, they came to the edge of the room. An enormous set of glass and wood doors were before them, thrown open to the fresh night air. Beyond the doors was a stone terrace and the country night. Odo led Kira out onto the terrace.

Kira closed her eyes and smiled as the night air crossed her face. She took a deep, cleansing breath. So lovely! The temperature was absolutely perfect for cooling off after dancing--they were in a holosuite, so it should be--but to Kira, it even smelled perfect. The scent was lush and green, but fresh, with a hint of water. It must be a summer night, wherever they were.

“Odo, where are we again?”

“Earth, Europe, during the second half of the 19th century.”

“And why?”

“This was the beginning of mainstream waltz culture. The waltz type we practiced originated in Europe--Austria, specifically--and became popularized around this time.”

“And the building? Are we anywhere specific?”

“It’s a composite of European manor houses. It came with the program. We were supposed to be aristocrats of some sort. Your role was a British duchess. Mine was an Austrian count. We were embroiled in a salacious affair and were supposed to be exposed to the public at this ball. I dialed down all of that drama so we could just enjoy the dancing.”

“Good call,” Kira said. “We have enough problems. Although, full disclosure, our actual affair has become rather salacious.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Kira chuckled at that. She turned around to look back at this manor house. When she had entered the holosuite, the door had opened straight onto the ballroom, so Kira hadn’t realized she was in a house. Before her was a high brick wall, so high, she couldn’t find the top of it in the dark. The wall disappeared into the starry night. She followed the wall down to her left, looking as far as she could see, but couldn’t find a corner, either. This manor house was massive, more like a fortress.

She turned to Odo, who was, as ever, close to her side. Somehow, he managed the trick of always being around without making her feel smothered.

“Odo, this place is intriguing," she said. "Maybe we should come back sometime and run this program the way it was intended. I could be an aristocrat for a night.”

“Full disclosure, the original story doesn’t end well. The lovers are parted rather tragically. Something about pistols at dawn.” That half-smile returned as he leaned closer to her. “Besides, why pretend to be a duchess when you are already a queen?”

“There is that golden-tongued flattery again,” Kira said. “You’re getting pretty good at it.”

“Is it still effective?”

“Yes,” Kira smiled. “Keep it up. It will pay off for you at some point tonight.”

Kira turned around again to look at the grounds beyond the terrace. They were neat, manicured, and from what she could tell at night, thoroughly green. Earth was M-class like Bajor, so it all felt familiar, especially the blue-black roof of stars that spangled the sky above them. Stars, of course, were universal.

A pounding in Kira’s feet reminded her that she came out here to sit down, not stargaze. She looked around and spotted a polished marble bench centered to a view of the grounds, set at some distance from the house. She moved towards the bench and Odo trailed along behind her. Before she sat down, she remembered to brush the bench off and test the texture. It was polished to glass-like smoothness and wouldn’t snag her gown. She swept her skirt beneath her and sat down. Odo took a place beside her on the bench.

“Whew!” she huffed. “That’s better. My feet are killing me.”

“Are they?” Odo asked. Concern edged his voice. “Give them to me, then.”

“Odo, it’s fine, really.”

He slid down to the edge of the bench and patted his leg. “Right here, Nerys.”

Kira grinned at him and shook her head. Prophets, he spoiled her. Mindful of the glass of water she was still holding, she turned her body and swung her feet up onto Odo’s lap. She balanced her weight back on one hand and watched Odo work.

Odo shifted his white gloves away. He took off her silver slippers and set them down neatly next to the bench. Kira flexed her bare toes and let the night air blow between them. Odo began to rub her feet, starting with the left. His thumb pressed into the aching ball of her foot just under her big toe, and Kira’s whole body rippled with pleasure.

She tipped her head back and moaned. “Oh, wow, that’s good. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said absently.

They didn’t say much after that. Kira was too busy enjoying her foot rub and Odo was too busy looking at the stars over their heads. Odo seemed lost in thought of some sort, and Kira didn’t interrupt him. She sipped her water as she continued to enjoy his work on her feet. Her gaze wandered to his face. Wherever his thoughts had led him, he had gone far away from her. Kira couldn’t quite read him, either. He looked almost unhappy, broody, but she let him stay wherever he was. If he was thinking about something dark, he wouldn’t tell her about it if she asked him, anyway. She kept a watchful eye on him and let him have his think.

The quiet spell was broken when Odo moved on to the arch of Kira’s foot. He slid his thumb all the way down her foot in a powerful, long, deliberate stroke she felt all the way up to her thighs. She sucked in a sharp gasp and almost dropped her glass. Odo immediately apologized, dialed back the pressure. She eased warily into his touch again, but it was too late. She was too turned on now to go back. She was just about ready for Odo to take her home and finish what he kept trying to start, but she also knew Odo hadn't gotten the chance to show her his surprise. She needed to wait. 

Odo wasn’t clueless about the effect he’d had on her, either. At least, Kira didn’t think he was, but he still wasn’t giving much away. His expression was closed. Unlike the deliberate move he pulled on her in the ballroom, this one did seem to be an accident. He was more careful of how he touched her after that, more mindful, and finished soothing both of her feet without any further incendiary incidents.

“How’s that?” Odo asked. “Better?”

Kira flexed her toes again and rolled her ankles a few times. “Good as new,” she proclaimed.

“Good,” Odo said. He bent down and picked up her slippers. He slid them back onto her feet. When her shoes were back on, he turned to her. “Are you up for another dance?”

The thought of giving up her alone time with Odo and going back into the ballroom with a bunch of holo-people around sounded less appealing than ever. “Actually,” she said, “I was thinking it was about time we went back to quarters.” She raised a brow at him. “After all, we wouldn’t want me to burn up all of my energy in one place.”

Odo paused to consider that. “Hmm,” he said. “I do see your dilemma. What if I told you to let me worry about being the energetic one, and that you don’t need to worry about anything at all? Would that convince you to dance with me one last time?”

Kira bit her lip. “I think I could agree to that.”

“I thought you would,” he smiled. 

He began to rise from the bench. Kira righted herself and rose with him. She set her empty glass on the bench. When she looked up, Odo's white-gloved hand was waiting. 

“Come, Nerys. Dance with me.”


	4. Prophets, He Can Dance

Kira took Odo’s hand and followed him away from the bench. Unexpectedly, he headed in the opposite direction of the ballroom.

“Odo, I thought you wanted to dance.”

“I do,” he said. 

“Then why are we walking away from the house?”

“You’ll see.”

He stopped at the edge of the terrace, where a large, cleared square of white stone sat bathed in the glow of moonlight--a space, Kira realized, big enough to be a dance floor. Odo pulled her closer, took her waist. Kira circled her arms around his neck. They began a slow sway under the canopy of stars.

“Is this my big surprise?” Kira teased. “Dancing to no music?”

“Do you really think I’d forget the music?”

“No,” Kira said, her smile fading. “I don’t think you’d forget a single thing.”

“Computer,” Odo said, “play my music.”

The faint sounds of the ballroom behind them were still audible, but the computer began playing a completely different sort of music. It overrode the orchestra. The new music was much different than the formal waltzes of the ballroom. It reminded Kira of the music at Vic's. Odo had learned to appreciate music through his relationship with Vic, so that choice didn’t surprise her. Luckily, Kira also liked Vic’s music. 

Kira smiled up at Odo. “Which dance would you like us to dance this time?”

“Whatever dance we want.”

“Oh,” Kira said. “Well, I vote for this one, then.” She rested her head on his chest as they continued to sway together. “This is nice.”

“Yes, it is,” Odo said. “But your surprise isn’t finished. Hold on to me.”

Odo's grip on her waist tightened. She raised her head. If he told her to hold on, he meant it, so Kira did. She rested her hands on his arms just above his elbows and held firmly. 

“Computer,” Odo said, “now.”

At Odo’s command, the computer began its magic. Kira felt an odd tingle in the soles of her feet. She looked down. The ground underneath them was changing. It wavered and shifted as the computer began to rearrange the photons into a new pattern. That odd tingling traveled from her feet and up her legs until it met her waist. She felt a pressure against her back like a giant phantom hand.

“Odo, what--”

Kira was cut off as her body began to lift off the ground. She began to float up and away from the white stone terrace. She clung a little tighter to Odo. He was floating up with her. 

“Odo, what’s happening?”

“Hold on tight, now."

She trusted him, and the computer, so Kira continued to hold tight to Odo. She looked down. The ground beneath drifted further and further away and she was suddenly dizzy. Their movement was an optical illusion, she knew that, she wasn’t actually moving at all, but humanoids weren’t meant to fly. She hid her face on Odo’s jacket. 

“Alright, Nerys?”

A muffled yes was her answer. But that was a bit of a lie. She reminded herself it was just the holosuite, that gravity hadn’t forsaken her, that she wasn't actually floating away from the earth and wasn’t suspended in midair. Everything would be fine.

She peeped out from the edges of Odo’s lapels. All she could see were stars. A field of stars she could tolerate. That, she was used to. She lifted her head and looked around. 

There was only the deep blue night sky, spangled with stars and glowing softly with celestial light. A moon lit their view from somewhere, but Kira didn’t see it. However, it did do amazing things for her dress. Moon crystals, indeed. The bodice of her gown dazzled with supernatural luster.

She looked down at her feet again and immediately regretted it. Below her were more stars, no ground. The terrace, the artificial Earth, the manor house, all of it was gone. Kira remembered her deep space training, remembered to stay calm, to breathe. It helped, but only a little. Floating in space was so much different without the suit.

She looked up at Odo. “We’re floating,” she said.

“Yes,” Odo replied. 

“I thought we were supposed to be dancing.”

“We still can, if you want to.”

“Odo, I feel like I’m going to fall.”

“You won’t fall,” he said. “Test it. Shuffle your feet.”

Kira bunched the sleeves of his jacket even tighter in her fists and managed to convince herself to drag one slippered toe across what seemed like an endless pit of night--a pretty pit, but a pit just the same. To Kira’s surprise, she encountered firmness. A floor. Or what felt like one. She grew bolder and moved her whole foot, picked it up and stamped it down. A ripple of light spread out from the impact point.

Kira grinned up at Odo. She eased her death grip from his sleeves. She moved both feet this time and stepped away from him, cautiously at first, then more boldly. She continued backstepping until she was as far as she could go and still hold his hand. She jumped up and down a few times and laughed as the floor lights bounced with her. She stretched her other arm behind her and leaned her weight out, all the way out, trusting Odo not to drop her. Her body canted away from him at a dangerous angle and he held her only by her fingertips. Odo tugged her back to him in a spin. Kira laughed with delight as the stars blurred to white streaks and the moonlight rippled beneath her feet. 

Odo caught her at the end of her spin. “Are you comfortable?” he asked. “Are you ready?”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

“Then dance with me.”

And dance they did. The computer continued to supply them with music. It was as if the stars themselves were singing. They danced simply at first, a few of the stock steps and moves they’d learned together, with a personal variation thrown in here and there. As Kira adjusted to the new environment, things became truly fun. 

The longer they danced, the more joy Kira felt, and the more joy she felt, the more joy went into her dance. The lowered gravity made the tricks they knew easier than ever to execute and let them invent new tricks in the moment, defiances of physical law that could only happen in a fantasy. All rules of any kind that had been imposed on their bodies were gone. Kira was lifted and turned, dipped and spun and tossed as if she were made of no more than spun sugar. Odo was there to catch her every time. Her feet were freed of the full imposition of weight, and thereby, any possibility of pain. She leaped and cavorted and gavotted, pirouetted and chassed, trotted, tangoed, and tapped. Her body was unbound and she let it move where it willed, and with every move she made, Odo was there to read it, to respond to it, and to encourage her to try a new direction. He was, as always, her anchor, her home. She was the star, bold and brilliant, and he was the night, fixed and unchanging. 

Kira couldn’t remember the last time she felt so free. She could have danced all night with him on his field of stars, but Odo began to slow things down. It wasn't because he was tired, he didn’t get tired, but Kira listened anyway. She followed his lead and let him bring her in, let him hold her close, let him keep her instead of trying to break free. They settled back into the same slow couple’s sway they’d began with. 

As they swayed together, Kira rested her head and her hands on Odo’s chest. She was out of breath and her heart pounded in her ears. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did need to slow down for a minute. She let him keep time for her and continued to lean on his chest until her pulse returned to something like normal. This had definitely been a night to remember. His surprise was perfect. His dancing was perfect. _He_ was perfect. But there was one thing that they’d not yet done together that Kira was sorely missing.

“Odo,” she said. “I just realized something. You haven’t kissed me at all tonight. Why not?”

“Because our evening would have been over before it started," he said. "I'm the one who asked you to come out tonight, so I didn't think that would be fair."

"What do you mean?"

"When I saw you walking toward me in the ballroom, looking so beautiful, looking at me the way you were, I wanted you so much. I would have spent the whole night with you on that spot. I knew that once I kissed you, I would never want to stop.”

She paused mid-step. She looked up at him, searched his expression. That same blue smolder had returned to his gaze, made even more beautiful by the soft glow of the stars. It was the same gaze he had used to greet her in the ballroom, the one that had held her so mesmerized, the one that had teased her into a corner and convinced her to do scandalous things in a public room. 

“So don’t,” she said. “Don’t stop.”

He tipped her chin up and brushed his thumb along her jaw. He rested his forehead against hers. He stayed there for a long moment, quiet, still, eyes closed, gloved fingers gently wrapped around her neck. Kira didn’t move, almost didn’t breathe. The longer Odo stayed still, the harder it was to have him so close, the more frustrating, and the more frustrated she got, the more she wanted him. Anticipation coiled her stomach in knots and desire made her hands shake. What was he waiting for? What did he want? Why didn’t he--

His mouth took hers, hot, hard, demanding. He stole her breath and his hands were suddenly everywhere. They slid greedily over the crystal bodice of her gown, looking for a place to land, looking for a place to touch, but the heavy beading was in the way. He couldn't feel her, not like he wanted to. He growled a sound of frustration and slid is hands lower, over the skirt of her gown, and gathered up the airy tiers of fabric in frustrated bunches. His mouth slid down her neck. Kira tipped her head back and offered him more, offered him her pale, white throat. His tongue ran along the edge of her collarbone as it peeked over the high neck of her dress, and Kira whimpered, lost her footing. Odo caught her, kept her upright. She clung tightly to him as he kept kissing, licking, nipping every vulnerable, sensitive place he'd mapped on her skin. 

She couldn’t take it anymore. She was going to fall. She placed her hands on either side of his head, gripped his fine hair in her fists, and directed him back to her mouth. His kiss was like too much wine, like a drug, her head spun even more, but he gave her no quarter. No air. His tongue plundered her mouth and thrust between her lips in measured, deliberate pulses that intensified the ache between her thighs, a frustrating prelude of what was to come. She fed him her moans and did her best to keep up with him, to match her response to his call, but she was only flesh and blood. There was only so much she could do. Her knees were going weak. She was going to fall. 

His arms slid under her hips, lifted her, and the stars began to tilt. She was falling, it was happening, but she wasn’t afraid. He was there, falling with her, guiding her down. She landed softly with him over her, with him resting between her thighs, that blue-eyed longing still calling to her. He gathered up the skirts of her gown, exposing her legs to the night air, and his hand, oh his hand and his fingers stroking her over-ready flesh were such a relief but still not enough. She sat up, kissed him, reached between their bodies for the front of his trousers. Enough waiting. Enough flirting. Enough teasing. Enough. She freed him into her gloved hands and pleasured him in urgent strokes. Now. _Now._

She was pressed down onto the field of stars that surrounded her. A thick, throbbing hardness pierced the warm, waiting ache between her thighs and the stars reeled. Yes, oh, yes! She raised her hips higher to meet him, to hold him. Strong arms slid under her shoulders and back. A careful hand rested under her head. He cradled her from the hard night beneath her as he pushed deep, deep into her body in long, slow thrusts with perfect rhythm and perfect timing and that perfect cock and finally, oh, finally she could breathe. She could breathe. She smiled at the stars over his shoulder as he rocked her to heights of pleasure and rolled with her down into valleys of joy, as he whispered in her ear and told her lover’s secrets. And when he drove her up to the highest peak, when he forced her off the edge and into the abyss of her own ecstasy, she fell harder than ever before, but he was still right there, right there, waiting to catch her. 

_“Odo, please, please...Don’t stop.”_

_“Never, Nerys...Never.”_


	5. For You, Anything

It took Kira some time to find her wits again. Luckily, Odo’s recovery time was shorter. Once he could move, he wrapped his arms firmly around Kira and pulled her up with him--he refused to let her sit on the floor--and cradled her in his arms as he reordered the holosuite. He called back the terrace, the green and tended grounds, the manor house. Instead of the hard marble bench, however, he ordered a soft, long chaise, a perfect seat for two lovers to stretch out on and share. 

Kira looked down at the cushioned chaise. “That looks comfy. We should have called that thing up an hour ago.”

“Nerys, if we get any more comfortable in this holosuite, we’re never going to leave it.”

"That's fine by me,” she said.

"Me, too," he said. "Me, too..."

Odo leaned his cheek against Kira's brow. He heaved a sigh. There was a long silence.

“Odo, are you going to put me down?”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” 

He set Kira on the chaise and eased down next to her. He let his upper body fall back against the rest and stretched out his long legs. Kira stretched out next to him and pillowed her head on his shoulder.

She realized her long satin gloves were still on. She peeled them off, rolled them up, and stuffed them in the pocket of Odo's jacket. She laid down again and began toying with the buttons on Odo's shirt. He pulled his fingers through her hair as he watched the stars over their heads. 

Kira wondered how late it was. Their holosuite reservation had to be expired by now. Bless Quark for not sending anyone to kick them out. It probably was time they went back to quarters. Then, she could get rid of the rest of this outfit. But Kira still needed a little more time to recover. She could still feel all the places on her neck where Odo’s mouth had been, could still feel the flush of her pleasure burning her cheeks. Her body was sleepy and languid and sated, and she didn’t want to move it yet.

She tilted her head to look at Odo. He looked completely content--happy, even--an expression very few people ever got to see him wear. If they walked back through Quark’s now, everyone would know what they had been doing. Besides, they weren't quite done with their evening yet. Despite the beautiful and passionate pleasure Odo had just given her, there was still one more thing Kira wanted from him. 

“So,” she began. She slipped her fingers between the buttons of his shirt so she could caress his skin. “Are you going to tell me what all of this was about? Why the royal treatment tonight, and the special surprise?--Which, by the way, was so beautiful, I think you should consider publishing it."

"I'm glad you liked it. I certainly did." He laid his hand over hers and stopped her fingers. "And stop doing that, or you really are never getting out of this holosuite."

She giggled. "Sorry," she said. She pulled her hand back. "As I was saying, I have been racking my brain for weeks trying to figure out what we’re celebrating tonight beyond the usual, but you've got me stumped. Solve the mystery for me. What are we celebrating in such a lovely fashion tonight, Odo?"

A shy hesitance came through in his tone. “Well, Nerys, tonight, we are celebrating...me.”

“You? Really?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Specifically, this is the seventh anniversary of my commission to the Bajoran militia and my reappointment as security chief of the station.”

Kira was careful not to let her excitement get the best of her. Everything they’d ever celebrated together, either as friends or lovers, had been centered around a festival day, or someone’s birthday, or around their relationship milestones, but never Odo himself. He wouldn't allow it.

“Congratulations,” she said. “I’m happy you found a reason to celebrate yourself, Odo. You definitely deserve it. But I’ve asked you a hundred times to let me do something for you, and you’ve refused me every time. What changed your mind?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Uh-huh. I wanted to celebrate me for you.”

“But making it about me makes it not about you, Odo. I don’t get it.”

“It doesn't, though,” he replied. "After one of our other big nights out, it occurred to me that if someone like you--talented, passionate, a born leader, and gloriously beautiful-- could spend time with someone like me, could let me be part of your world, I should let some of that radiance brighten up the image I have of myself. I should think more of myself and my accomplishments.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Kira said. “You’ve done some incredible things, Odo. You’ve inspired me in some way every single day since the day I met you. You think I’d be this person you’re putting on such a high pedestal without your influence?”

“No, I don’t,” he said. “That’s the part I realized that was so critical. I can’t be better for you and support you fully unless I acknowledge that I’m worthy in my own right. That I do have a space. That I do deserve to be celebrated...So, tonight, we celebrated.”

“We sure did," she smiled. "But why the date of your commission? That’s not very personal. Why is that the date that’s so important to you?”

“It’s not, per se. It was more a process of elimination.”

“Odo, that is not a very good reason.”

“If I place the context of my life in a humanoid frame, it makes sense, though.”

“Not to this humanoid. You’re gonna have to give me the full run-down, Odo. Explain it to me.”

There was another long pause as Odo formed his answer. Kira gave him time to think, let him put his thoughts together for her. She had learned that, contrary to popular opinion and to her own misconceptions, Odo wasn’t uncommunicative. Odo just needed time to deliver what he had to say on his own terms. Once his terms were met, he would spill everything to the right listener, with his usual blunt honesty, and Kira knew how to be that listener now. If her relationship with Odo had taught her anything, it was that patience paid off. 

“Unlike the average humanoid," he began, "I don’t have a lot of milestone dates that are worthy of celebration. I really had to think it through to come up with a day from my life that I wanted to honor. According to the Founder, I’m centuries old at least, maybe older, but I have no idea when I was actually born, and she refuses to tell me, so I don’t have a birthday. My consciousness only vaguely registered the passage of time between when they tossed me out of the Link and when the Cardassians found me--also not a day worth celebrating to me. Most of those long years in space are just echoes or impressions, flashes of darkness and cold, of total aloneness. When I was finally rescued, it was anticlimactic. I was stored in a lab with the rest of the curiosities. I sat in a dream state and gathered dust on a shelf for almost two decades before Mora dumped me out. 

“After all that waiting, all that time, my true life began the day I finally was able to break through my own silence and communicate with Mora. But that moment was also full of pain and desperation. I thought he was trying to kill me, so also not a day I’d want to celebrate.

“I considered the day I left the lab--sort of my own personal independence day--but that day, too, was full of hurt and anger. I realized immediately the error I’d made when I found myself outside of the lab and in the open world. I went from a place that was ordered, clinical, and relatively safe to one that was anarchical, violent, and highly dangerous. I felt like a fool for leaving, so much so, I couldn’t go back and face my shame. So, I started walking. I was afraid every day I walked alone on Bajor with my alien face, and I stayed afraid for years. Not exactly the liberation experience that inspires picnics and pride parades. 

“And of course, there are my encounters with my people. You were with me on the day I met them, so we both know how that turned out, and why maybe we can skip that memory, too. I got the answers I was looking for, but damn me if I didn’t hate myself for asking the questions. Not a single encounter with my people since then has resulted in any sort of good day for me.

“In the end, I realized I just don’t have any days, really, that are only about me and that are worthy of honoring. Too many of my days I wish I didn’t remember at all. The only day in my life that I thought was appropriate was the day Bajor granted my commission. I earned that commission through years of hard work, and I kept it by being true to myself and remaining loyal to the pursuit of justice. It was also a major relief that I wasn’t going to prison for working for Dukat, so it was a hopeful day, too. I would remain free and I had a home. With the commission offer came Bajor’s forgiveness and its confidence, so it’s also a day of amnesty and acceptance…Not to mention, I’ve passed way too many tests and certifications in order to keep my commission since then. I do feel quite proud of all of the work I’ve done here and what I’ve built on this station. I am proud of what I've accomplished, as hard as it is for me to admit it.”

Tears had pooled in Kira’s eyes as she listened. Silently, they spilled over and rolled off her face. They landed on Odo’s jacket before she could catch them. 

“Oh, Nerys. Why are you crying? What did I say?”

“Nothing, Odo. You did nothing wrong. I’m just...”

“What?”

She sniffled and wiped her face. She sat up so she could see him. “I just realized that I don’t think I’ve ever said it to you, Odo, and I am so sorry. I’m such an idiot. I just assumed you always knew.” She placed her hands on either side of his face. “I am proud of you. I’m proud of you, Odo.” She bent down and planted small, quick kisses all over his face. “Oh, Prophets, I am so, so proud of you.”

He caught her hands and kissed them. “And I am proud to know you, Nerys,” he said. “I’m so proud you chose me.” He sat up and swept her into a hug. 

Kira was still teary-eyed as he released her. “Well,” she said, wiping her eyes, “now that you’ve picked a date that's yours, does this mean we can celebrate again next year? That maybe I can throw you a real party and invite our friends, too?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he replied. “It was hard enough for me to give you this much of a concession.”

“Yeah, I know. You can’t blame me for asking, though. I haven't been this excited to plan a party ever." 

He chuckled and pulled her into another embrace. He rocked with her and stroked her back, and Kira thought that if it were possible, she would be willing to live in this holosuite with him, on this chaise, forever. She could deal with these pistols at dawn Odo had mentioned. She was an excellent shot.

A long, low rumbling growl from her stomach shot that idea down. Kira was suddenly _starving._ The fuss from her stomach made them both laugh and lifted their post-coital malaise. Odo rubbed her stomach and arched a brow at her. 

“Nerys. Did you eat before you came here?” 

“No,” she admitted. “I was too keyed up to eat. Guess I should have, huh?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, you should have, and why you so often need to be reminded of such things eludes me. For such a capable woman, you are an awful lot of maintenance, Kira Nerys.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips. He rose from the chaise and offered Kira his hand.

“Colonel Kira, may I please have the honor of escorting you to dinner?”

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled. 

Kira gave Odo both of her hands and let him pull her to her feet. They worked together to straighten her gown and fix her hair. Odo reseated her jeweled barrette, which had come loose. Nothing else looked out of place, so they proceeded to the exit.

“Can we eat at Quark’s?” she asked.

“If you like,” he replied. “But why? You don’t like Quark’s food.”

“Even Quark can’t screw up a sandwich,” Kira said. “But mostly, it's so that you can hang out with Quark while I eat. It is, after all, traditional to spend time with loved ones and friends on special occasions.”

“Humph! Loved ones...” Odo paused mid-step and looked at her. “You’re not going to tell him about the occasion, are you?”

“Of course not,” she said. “It’ll be our secret, for as long as you want it kept. Although, I have a whole year to convince you to change your mind. You might've set yourself up to fail, Constable.”

Odo harrumphed again and resumed their trek. They stepped into the manor house. The computer had removed all of the characters but had left the lights on for them.

“Well, it is your stomach,” he groused. “You should be the one to choose. And I guess I could tolerate Quark on your behalf.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Kira replied. “And then after that, we’ll head back to quarters.”

“And then what?”

“Well, if you’d told me about your decision sooner, I would have had time to get you a gift. As it is, I’m going to have to improvise.”

They had reached the holosuite doors. Kira’s wrap was hanging next to them. Odo retrieved it and helped her cover her shoulders.

“Nerys,” he said, “you don't need to get me a gift. Ever. I have everything I could ever need.”

“Yes, but what about things you like?”

“Such as?”

“Well,” Kira said. She leaned against him and brushed imaginary nothings off the lapel of his jacket. “You know that one thing you like so much, the one where I use my hands and my…”

Kira finished telling him the rest. By the time she was done, Odo’s aspect had brightened considerably. “Oh, I do like it when you do that,” he said. “And you also know how much I like to reciprocate. I guess we are rather salacious, aren't we?"

"Yup."

He picked up her hand and kissed it. He circled his thumb on her skin. “Could you wear the gloves again, though? The texture was quite..invigorating.”

“For you, anything,” she smiled. “But first, we need to see Quark about a sandwich. I won’t be able to do anything for you at all if I don’t eat soon.” 

Odo bent at the waist and swept a full, formal bow. He rose and offered Kira his arm. “As you wish, my lady,” he said. “Always, as you wish…”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on characters belonging to CBS/ Paramount. I made no money at all from this work. The characters are theirs, this story is mine.


End file.
